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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728809">Sugar With Coffee And Cream</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyes_of_a_Tragedy/pseuds/Eyes_of_a_Tragedy'>Eyes_of_a_Tragedy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Short Destiel AUs - Meeting For The First Time [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Relationship, Trex Doesn't Know How to Tag Stories That Aren't Rated E</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:53:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyes_of_a_Tragedy/pseuds/Eyes_of_a_Tragedy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They bump into each other in a coffee shop, and Cas stains his shirt. Isn't it just Dean's luck that he owns the thrift store across the street?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Short Destiel AUs - Meeting For The First Time [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029360</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sugar With Coffee And Cream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For my Muggsy. I love you and always will.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Tall Soy Macchiato, Tall Americano, Grande Iced Latte with coconut milk and an extra shot; Venti Caramel Frappuccino, extra caramel, extra shot, extra pump, extra whip… and a cake pop for Winchester!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean shuffles around the crowd gathered at the counter and reaches over to grab the drink-laden cup holder. He's carefully maneuvering to the side bar to grab some napkins and extra sugar packets for Gabriel when a guy in a suit gets jostled into him, upending the drinks all over them both.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, no. I'm so sorry. I was just trying to get my coffee." The guy's looking down as he speaks, hands ineffectively brushing at the blossoming stain on his shirt and tie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grabbing a wad of napkins from the dispenser, Dean hands them over. "It's okay, man. Here, I don't think it's gonna do much good, but…" He stops as impossibly blue eyes gaze up at him from under some of the most fucked out hair Dean's ever seen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swallows around the lump that's suddenly lodged in his throat. "Um."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue Eyes takes the napkins, fingers brushing Dean's, and there's a little jolt of electricity. Or maybe that's just Dean's brain short-circuiting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What am I going to do?" the gravelly voice asks distractedly, breath heaving out with exasperation. "My interview is in an hour."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can help with that!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, uh, I own the thrift store across the street. Let me hook you up with some replacement threads? No one should have to go to an interview in stained clothes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guy stares at him like he doesn't understand the language Dean’s speaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"C'mon," Dean tugs at his jacket sleeve. An employee is moving toward them, mop in hand. Nodding in apology, he shifts Mr. Nerves out of the way and adds, "My name's Dean."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hello, Dean," the guy awkwardly replies. "My name is Castiel."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What a weird name. Kinda pretty, though.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Heya, Cas. So whaddya say? You want a change of clothes?" Dean's got altruistic motives, but he'd be lying if he said he isn't wondering what's under the baggy white oxford.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel looks like he's going to refuse, so Dean interrupts before he can even start talking. "I insist. If you say no, I'm going to wonder all day if you missed your chance at this job because of me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bats his eyelashes and pouts dramatically, and the small smile it gets out of Cas makes something in his chest clench.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay. But I insist on paying you," he says firmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not a chance, angel.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sure! Did you want to try to order another drink?" Dean trails off as Cas looks at his watch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, I'm afraid I won't have time for that now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Dean pulls at Cas's arm and they move toward the door, ducking busy customers as they go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Dean's got Cas in his shop, he takes him directly to the menswear section. The selection isn't huge, but he's pretty sure he's got a shirt or two that should work, and there's a decent selection of ties.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snagging a white button-down from the rack, he passes it to Cas; then on sheer instinct, he pulls a cobalt blue one out, also.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Here, go try these on while I look at ties for you. There's a bathroom back behind the cash wrap, if you need to clean up real quick. Dressing area's in the back right corner."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watches Cas swiftly make his way to the bathroom, and busies himself with looking for the perfect tie. He's debating between a blue one with an extremely subtle checked pattern and a silver and blue striped option when Cas approaches in the white shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It fits significantly better than the coffee stained one had, and damn, Cas is built! Dean's mouth waters a bit, and he swallows it down before he speaks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay, so stripes or solids?" Dean asks, holding each tie up respectively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel fingers each one and looks at him in question. "Which one do you think is better?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean surreptitiously eyes Cas's collarbone. He's pretty sure he's not supposed to say "neither", but he's thinking it real damn hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The blue," he answers, holding it up to Cas's face. "Makes your eyes stand out."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's a slight flush on Castiel's cheeks, and damn if that isn't adorable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reaching up to take the tie from Dean's hand, Cas asks, "What do I owe you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lightly slaps Cas's hand away and loops the silky material up over his head and starts the process of tying a half Windsor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While he's wiggling the fabric into the perfect position, Dean looks into Cas's gorgeous cornflower eyes. "I'll make you a deal. You go get this interview. Knock it out of the park. And then come back and tell me about your new job… over dinner, maybe?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel looks at him with a hint of desire, a lot of awe. "Okay. If you're sure?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean steps in a breath closer and exhales a quiet, "I'm sure."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A gummy smile splits Cas’s face, and Dean's new goal in life is to be the reason for that happiness as much as possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel reaches up and lightly touches the back of Dean's hand, then steps back and says, "I have to go get my jacket."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean nods in assent and shamelessly watches Cas walk away. It's a nice view.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They part at the door to the shop, Dean wishing Cas a broken leg, and he wonders if he'll actually ever see him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He really hopes he does.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's approaching closing time when the bell over the door tinkles, and Castiel walks in carrying a tray of coffees. Dean can feel himself lighting up, just at the sight of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sleeves of the white shirt are rolled up to the elbow, and the tie has been loosened. Cas places the drinks on the counter, and Dean notices it's a nearly exact duplication of Dean's order from that morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I, um, I didn't know which one was yours, but I asked the barista, Kevin. He seemed to know exactly who I was asking about, though he couldn't tell me which coffee you prefer for yourself. So I just ordered them all. And a cake pop."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's adorable, and Dean's going to make sure Kev gets an awesome tip next time he stops in for his morning caffeine kick. He grabs the iced latte and takes a big swig.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Perfect. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And he's not talking about the coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Setting it down, he reaches across the counter and strokes over the tie. "You gonna tell me about your interview, Cas?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sneaky bastard leans into his personal space and quietly queries, "I believe dinner was part of the deal?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean's smile dimples his face, and when Cas adds, "Hello, Dean," it's just dorky enough to make him thank whatever deity might be listening, for bringing this wonderful man literally crashing into his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Heya, Cas," he replies, straightening the blue fabric under his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's the beginning of something sweet.</span>
</p>
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